Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1887-10-15

- - N-@-'e~ f~f1@~< .~~%~" 49, 49,
lown Ia the actn
"Ay," said tho Zulu. srear not; should
have slain her ere sho struck was but wait
ing tho moment"
] said nothing; but could not help think
Ing that many thousand doomed lives
would have been saved II be had melted out
10 SoiaiS tho fate she meant for her sister,
And, as tie issue proved, WINS right
After he had told his tale Unislopognas
vent OF unconcernedly to Get his morning
meal, and Sir Henry and fell to talking
At first he was very bitter against Good,
Who. he said, was no longer 10 be trusted,
having designcdly allowed Sorais TO escape
Wy some secret stair when II was his duty TO
lave handed her over to justice. Indeed he
spoke In the most unmtasurcd terms on the
matter. ] let him run on WHILE rejecting
70 myself how easy we lind it 20 be hard OH
nc weaknesses of others, and how tender we
are TO our own.
"Really, my dear fellow" said at length,
conc would never think, to hear you talk,
that you were the man who had an interview
with this same lady yesterday and found IL
rather difficult to resist her destinations, not
withstanding Your ties to one of the loyeliest
and most loving women IN tho whole world.
Now suppose that it was Nyleptha who had
tried to murder Sorais, and you had caught
her, and she had pleaded with you, would you
have been SO very eager TO hand her over to
mn open shame and to death by fret Just
look at the matter through Goods eye glass
for minute before you denounce an old
friend as q scoundrel."
IIe listened to this jobation submisslyciy,
and then frankly acknowledged that he Ind
Spo en- harshly. II Is one Of the best points
in Sir Henry's character that no is always
ready to admit It when he is In the wrong
But, though spoke up thus for Good,
behavior might be, 1t was obvious that ho WIS
being involved in very awkward and dis
graceful complication. A foul and wicked
murder had been attempted, and he bad let
the murderess escape, ard thereby, among
other things, allowed her to gain complete
nscendancy over himself. In fact he was in
a fair way to become h,r tool-and no more
dreadful fate can befall q man than to be-
come tho tool of an INSCRIPTIONS woman,
or indeed of any woman. There Is but one
end to it, when he is broken, or has served
her purpose, he is thrown away-turned out
on the world to hunt for his lost self respect.
While was pondei!1 thus and wondering
what was to be done for the whole subject
was thorny one-I suddenly heard a great
clamor in the court yard outside and distin-
guished the voices of Umslopogaas and AL
phonse, the former cursing furiously and the
latter yelling in terror.
Hurrying out to see what was the matter, ]
was met by ludicrous sight. The little
Frenchman was running up tho courtyard al
an extraordinary speed, and after him sped
Umslopogaas like a great greyhound. Just as
came out he caught him, and lifting hin
right off his legs, carried him some PAGES to q
beautiful but very dense Towering shrul
which bore flower not unlike the gardenia
but was covered with short thorns Next
despite his howls and struggles, he with on,
mighty thrust plunged poor Alphonse head
first into the bush, SO that nothing but the
calves Of his legs and his heels remained II
evidence. Then satisfied with what he hat
done, the Zulu folded his arms and stood
grimly contemplating the Frenchman's kicks
and listening to his yells, which were awful.
"What art thou doingp said, running up
"Wouldst thou kill the mani Pull him out o.
| the bush"
With savage giunt he obeyed, seizing tn,
wretched Alphonse by the ankle, and with
| jerk that must have nearly dislocated it, tear
| ing him out of the heart of the shrub. Neve
| did see such q sight as he presented, hi
clothes half torn off his back and bleeding a
| lie was in every direction from the shai1
thorns There he lay, and yelled and rolled
and there was no getting anything out o
| him.
| At last, however, he got up, and ensconcin,
himself behind me, cursed old Umslopogaa
| by every saint in the calendar, vowing by III
blood Of his heroic grandfather that he woult
poison Elm and shave Ills revenge"
| At last I got the truth Of the matter /
appeared that Alphonse habituaily cooke,
UmslopogaaS' porridge, which the latter at
| for breakfast in the corner of the court yard
| just US he would have done at homo in Zulu
land, from gourd, and with woodel
spoon. Now Unlslopogaas had, like man,
| Zulus, great horror of fish, which be con
sitlered species of water snake; so Alphonse
who was as fond of playing tricks as a mon
key, and who was also q consummate cook
determined to make him eat some. Accord
ingly he grated up white fish very hnel,
and mixed it wi, h the 2ulu's porridge, VIII
swallowed it nearly all down il ignorance o
what he was eating. But unfortunately TO
Alphonsc he could not restrain his joy at thi
sight and came ca. eling and peeping round
till at last Umslopogaas, who was clover Ii
his way, suspected something, and after
careful examination of the remains of hi
porri,lge, discov cred 'the buffalo heifcr's
Jrick, and in revenge served him as hav
said Indeed, the little man was fortunate
not to get broken neck for his pains; for
as one would have thought, he might have
learned from the episode of his display o
axlpanship that lie monsieur ncir was ell il
peron to play practical jokes OF.
This incident was unimportant enough Il
| itself, but nalrate it because it led to seriou
consequences. AS soon as he had stanchet
the bleeding from hi, scratches and washed
himself, Alphonsc went of, still cursing, t.
recover his temper, process which knew
| from experience would take very Ions
time When he had gone, I gave Umslo
pogaas jobation, and told him that / was
ashamed of his behavior.
"Ah, well, Macumazahn," be said, "yos
must be gentle. with me, for here is not my
place. am weary of it--weary to death o.
eating and drinking, of sleeping and giving
in marriage l love not this soft life in stonC
I